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Assignment

 Tricia Swortzel

 

Write a poem?

WRITE A POEM???

You have got to be kidding,

I can’t write a poem.

My thoughts are so stupid,

They just don’t make sense.

I can’t be a poet.

Oh, this is a mess.

My teacher is crazy.

This class is a joke-

I thought of a rhyme

And that’s the word POKE.

I need twenty lines

And I’ve past halfway there.

I wish there was a better

Cushion on this chair.

Okay, let’s get started;

I wish I was done.

So much trouble

And I haven’t begun.

 

Love is a Fire

Caleb Tate

 

Like

Our

Very

Existence,

 

Is it

Safe?

 

Are we

 

Free

In

Realizing

Every

 

Time

Our lives

 

Graciously

Invite former

Visitors

Everywhere

 

We go?

Are we

Really

Made

To

Help?

 

Barely.

Utterly we

Truly

 

Sadden

A

Delightful

Living soul.

Yes,

 

But

Right

Initiative

No longer

Gives

Signs

 

Portrayed as

Acts of

Independence.

Nothing

 

Is

Nicer

 

Than

Having an

End,

 

Ending with

No bad

Decisions of love.

The 57th Failure

 Savannah Biggs

A change in mood

and a change in pace,

yet it's all the same-

everyone is laid to waste.

 

My comrades are gone;

so are my friends;

with them my brave warrioress

fell without a cowardly flight,

and despite the gift of her life,

we can never lay her to rest.

 

Your memories will live on,

and your patch will be kept.

Now leave us, living, be-

but promise me,

that you will use your wings

to find your spirits' freedom.

 

Innocence has been robbed.

Both with lives from the young

and the sacrifice of my former men.

 

When we return broken

we are mocked by our town.

Without a thought, do we

die only to be shunned by our own kind?

Because we, the fighters, know by hiding, behind a wall,

is not a way to protect.

 

When we return, crushed-

we must face the fallen's family.

News that would have once brought

sorrow is now an impossible dream.

 

We are soldiers

who must stay brave for those who cannot fight.

 

But this powerful facade of mine can finally

sleep with the banished sun and the reign of the moon.

Because when the captain retires for the night,

only then can he weep.

Autumn

Holly Morrison

     Autumn, the seasonal display of vibrant hues of fiery reds, oranges, and yellows, is my favorite word. The first markings of autumn have finally arrived once green fades and becomes a plethora of warm hues, of contrasting and complimenting scarlet and gold. Autumn, the season most centralized around nature, allows us to marvel and appreciate its aesthetics. The animals scurry to and fro to prepare for their upcoming hibernation, the leaves languidly and pompously float towards the ground like fiery embers waiting to illuminate the earth - the temperature slowly declines in anticipation of winter. Once it is officially fall, we can fervently anticipate carving orange pumpkins, inhaling apple cider, guising on Halloween, gathering on Thanksgiving, and breathing in that distinctive scent of autumn: the fragrance of fall is an enigmatic brew of cinnamon, apples, and decaying leaves.

     In correlation to this grand season of coppery gourds, scarlet apples, and golden leaves, Virginia is the exemplary destination to dramatize this shifting of seasons. It offers a location that is bombarded and surrounded by foliage, making one feel as if they are drowning in an abyss of leaves, fortified by a dense forest. The cornucopia of trees accents the shifting colors; the wildlife emphasizes the fact that humans are not the only creatures who inhabit Virginia.

The Mirror

 Erika Turner

I watched her walk away from life, from love;

I could see it in her eyes. The world, look!

It poisoned her, wrapped her heart like a glove,

See, the world, it doesn’t care what it took.

I watched her die everyday before me.

She stood there looking for answers to life-

If only she knew about standing fees-

She came to me amid struggle and strife;

She came and stood and died. Crying. Wanting.

And I could only watch as she faded.

She, a ghost, and her life, a dull haunting

Please, pick yourself up! Why are you jaded?

Sitting here with me, you’ve wasted much time.

Stop putting on that mask! You’re not a mime.

 

Now, you stand here, shattered, almost broken

You wanted this, right? A painful token.

 

Chamberlynn Bruner

Chamberlynn Bruner

Emilie Hughes

Emilie Hughes

Bailey Mann

Jordan Dalton

Mollie Woods

Rachel Eberhardt

LOVER OH LOVER

 Rachel Mann

 

Fire in our hearts creates teas in our eyes.

Every young man then cries for his brother,

And hopes have been lost by fear in disguise.

Yet each and every brother is a lover.

Lover, oh dear lover—where did you go?

Brother came home, but mama was gone.

Lover of lover’s broken heart may show.

Unknown mothers only sand this song.

How many lovers does it take to kill,

Saving lives before another dies,

A life that began with a heart beat still.

Leaving children with tears in their eyes.

Brother of brother, do you see that show?
Because my mama let the lovers go.

Jealous?

Rachel Mann

 

Sticks and stones may break my bones—

This heart ache still remains the same,

I heard you judge me frame,

Because it’s not always the same,

And now you’re the one playing mind game—

But I’m the one who should feel shame.

The fear of being loved set in,

Because being loved can only be from him.

So you push me away

Because you feel astray,

But I found God,

And you sobbed.

Leaving sucha  hypocrite afraid.

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